


Lost and finding...

by Escritora2Aliasfox



Series: Supernatural and good omens crossover [1]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Supernatural
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 22:54:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7820434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Escritora2Aliasfox/pseuds/Escritora2Aliasfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now that Crowley is the King of hell, he has access to a lot of new information. ...and so he finds something regarding his past.</p><p>He kind of hires the winchesters to find what was taken from him so long ago, making quite a juicy offer...<br/>But they wonder, what could make him so... eager?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the...um... job interview

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys like it. It is being published in my deviantart account as well.
> 
> It is already more tan half written, but i will publish it weekly.

Dean left the bunker to buy pie. Not even supplies or toilet paper. Just pie. Becouse, he needed some fresh air…

The bunker was well hidden, but Crowley had posted demons everywere with the sole mission of telling him instantly if they divised an imapala car. Suddenly, Crowley was siting next to Dean on his veloved transport.

-SHIT!

Dean let go of the driving wheel and shooted directly with the gun, while tried to reach the knife…

Crowley ignored the pain of the shot and holded him by the sleeve.

Suddenly, they where at a park. St James park, to be precise. London.  
Just to the sight of two suspicious men, the ducks started aproaching them.

Dean was still blinking to the new sourranding when he noticed Crowley was unfolding noisily a paper bag with bread…and feeding the goddamed ducks

-CROWLEY WHAT THE HELLIS GOING ON!!

The demon didn’t even react, at first. He seemed lost in his own thougths, while watching the birds struggle for a first line in front of him.

-… want some bread for the ducks?

Dean snached the paper bag out of his hands and into the ground. Crowley didn’t react at first. The ducks fought happily for a free bouffet.

-ah… nothing’s like it ussed to.  
-tell me what the hell is going on! What do you want?  
-…you up for a deal?  
-NO!  
\- not that kind of deal, you morron! I dont want your soul. And if you do this for me, this… tiny, teeny thing for me, i will be on your band, and put hell to your feet if you want.

Dean blinked with an incredolous face, trying to process the information.

-you gonna listen to me now?

They sat on silence for a little while. Crowley contempling the ducks, Dean looked arround him taking in the views. It seemed like they had time. Whatever had happened to his car whould have happen already. 

-I don’t trust demons.  
-a deal is a deal, Dean. I would do my part.  
-yeah, with blank spaces.  
-… not long ago- Crowley shifted so that he was now sitting upright and looking at the lake- there where not so many demons on earth. They barely ever stepped on it, from time to time. There was only…one field agent, to stay here and report of how things where going…- he looked at his dressing shoes- those where good times. Then, everything went to hell. Quite literally- he emphaticed with his hands.  
-…i actually liked the earth back them, and i like it still. If you helped me with this, Dean. I will stop playing for hell and i will play for earth again. For all eternity. You will have the full support of the king of hell and even after i loose my title, i will still be on your side.

Dean could not velieve what he was saying, but for once he sounded like he was serious. And, to be fair, the demon had proved usefull at times, and the full support of the king of hell now that even angels where after them was…a juicy price. 

-…so. You don’t just offer me help. You would go against your side for earth itself? For fucking mankind?  
-… i actually sypatice with humans motre than i do with hell. Yes. I betraid my side a few times and i would do it again. If!- he rised a finger and looked at Dean in the eye for first time-…you do this for me.  
-… what do you want?

Crowley sat back again, fidgeting with his hands, looking at the ducks again.

-it is something personal.  
-if you dont tell me what it is i can not find it. 

He had had works on wich he “would know what it was when he found it” and those where shit.

-…if you tell anyone it will be the end of me. Oh, shit with it! Before everything whent to fuck, -he emphatized again- i had something. Something i held dear, and could not replace -a sad and wiked smile appeared- and i though i had lost it. That’s it. Oh, but now i know –it twisted into anger- that it was stolen from me!! And there is just, a tiny chance, that i can actually get it back. I want it.

Dean was a bit impressed.

-…so. Why do you think i can find it?  
-you find things. That’s your job. While im still king of hell i’ve got work to do.  
-…but what is it?  
-…an angel’s grace. And the one it belonged to. He used to have a body of his own. The name was Aziraphale. Ask your bestie Cass for him.  
-…Aziraphale?  
-we have a deal?  
-…before i agree. Give me back my car. In perfect conditions. No triks. Leave me back at home.  
-Sure. Deal?

Dean realiced what he was waiting for and rolled eyes with a bothered sight. Then, kissed him with a disgusting face.

-If you find it, this will be the last deal i have to do- said the demon, and he snaped fingers. Dean was again in his car. And he was driving!! He had to turn with a screech in order not to hit a pedestrian, but he made it allright.

He had to take in everything. Go back to the bunker. Tell Sam.   
He had a deal with the devil.

-Aziraphale was our field agent. He inhabitated earth withing a human form, fighting the evil in it and informing heaven of how humanity developed. 

Cass told the brothers. He was still looking at Dean with screwed eyes, and that face of anger of his, as he didnt like, (and didnt quite understand) that he had made a new deal with Crowley.

-He did quite well for millenia. From the birdth of humanity to his death, two or three decades ago. He even managed to stop a first attempt of apocalipse. But as i said. He is dead.  
-what happened to him?  
-i don’t know.  
-he may still be alive.  
-this happened before the war started. Before even yellow eyes started his plan. This was not common. He died.  
-…you say he stopped an apocalypse on his own- Sam was drinking his third beer, also upset for Deans “stupidity” –maybe that’s why they killed him.  
-He is not dead, ok?- Dean was tired of repeating himshelf- and i didn’t sell my soul. We can only win if we just find out what happened to that Raphel angel.  
-Aziraphale.  
-Whatever, the agent guy. For some reason Crowley wants him and if we just find him, we will have him. Do you undertand?  
-…Dean. I am pretty sure he is dead.  
-then we find his grave. and whatever else we can find. we’ve got nothing to loose. Just a little of research. Come on.

Cass’s lips turned into a tight line. Sam rolled his entire head.

-i’m getting some sleep- he got up from the couch.  
-Ok. Cass?

Castiel took a moment and then looked at Dean with a tilted to the side head.

-i need a burger.

And he desapeared. Dean was left alone. He sweared, but for once he started working…

…on his own.


	2. The research

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Cass do not like Dean's new job (handed over by the King of hell) but they will still help. There is something suspicious going on at lower Tadfield, anyways...

He took notes of anything regarding angels they had, called his contacts, and consulted a couple of vidents. Then, he started researching for anything back to 35 years ago that sounded suspicious, and when he was frustrated (he was not used to this, not as much as Sammy) he left with the car. He would stop in the way for a burger, but then he would go straight to collect some holly oil.

He left a message on Sam’s phone: he would be back with supplies for the angel’s research within a few days or sooner.

Not long later he got a call back: Sam didn’t like the deal, but he could tell Dean was taking it seriously, and needed help.

-i just really hope you know what you’re doing.  
-i do Sammy.  
-you sure he didn’t want your soul?  
-i didn’t sell my soul.  
-he didn’t add any hidden agendas?  
-not that i signed for. He made it simple.  
-…  
-he looked…angry, Sam. And kind of hurt. I think he was serious.  
-hope you are right. Have you researched cases in London?

Dean hadn’t, but it made kind of sense: Crowley had bring him to london hadn’t he?

-I’ve taken a look and… well, thirty years ago or so, in just one week a whole lot of huge paranormal activities started appearing. Whith the epicenter in a town near London. Somewhere called Lower Tadfiel.   
-the apocalypse was there?  
-I don’t know but the town is still known for being some short of…undiscovered paradise. With its own perfect clima.  
-…that doesn’t sound very demonic.  
-Dean, is like time doesn’t pass since fifty years ago. Listen to this: they constructed a road, which should have crushed it. And no one nows what happened but it dras a perfect semicircle to aboid the place for several miles. The responsables all lost their head and quit. And there was one superfactory…wich for no reason at all became an old scool poor pig farm. Not to mention several ufo’s witneses, something very odd regarding holes in the ground and tibetans… this place has a curriculum!  
-wait, all that in one week?  
-the same week the atlantida came back to the surface and an entire nuclear plant’s material dessapeared in front of the workers eyes.

Dean shoked his head. The atlantida? When had that happened? Nevermind.

-Well, i’m impressed. I don’t know you Sam, but i have to go to Lower tadfile and interrogate a pig farmer.  
-Its dangerous out there Dean. Better ask Cass to teleport you.  
-…Ok, i will ask Cass to take me. But he will have to take my car as well! And don’t worry, Sammy. I’v got the devil on my side.

It was the exact point of the road between the center of London and Lower Tadfiel where the impala materialiced and fell to the ground from a few inches on the air.   
Dean sweared between teeth while taking his time to recline a bit on the seat.

-Cass! Would you mean being a bit gentler nex time?  
-Sorry. I don’t usually carry a car with me.  
-this is why i don’t like traveling with you… anyways! It’s that way right? Lets go!

The two of them kept a mild silence. Dean didn’t know if cass was still upset for the deal, or for habing to take part on it, but he didn’t care. As faster they finished this faster they…

Cass shifted on the back of the car. For the fift time in a row. He was also starting to make odd noises, like he was eating something and couldnt decide if it was yummy or disgusting.

-you ok, buddy?  
-yeah i um… i don’t know.  
-yes but you don’t know?  
-its probably nothing. Keep driving.

He did. But soon Cass noises kept going.

-Cass are you sure you’re holding up?  
-yeah. Yeah. I’m fine. Really.

Dean tried to ignore it. And failed.

-i have enough experience to know its a bad omen when someone says that. What is it?  
-…i…don’t know. Is like a sensation…like breathing deeply after holding your beath…  
-You don’t need to breathe  
-i don’t know what it is, dean! Is like… the sudden warmth of sun after being cold for so long…  
-uh… ok, resist your cheap poetry impulse. We are almost there.

He increased the speed, quite worried, as Cass wouldnt stop his groaning and rumbling, and in the moment they crossed an old sign for Tadfiel Cass arched his back, opening eyes and mouth like a fish out of water (or rather, a fish arriving to the water)

-Cass! Hold on!  
-Is…this place!  
-What?  
-I feel…love  
-UH?  
-there is a… sensation of love…floating in the air…

Cass now flinched back bend over himshelf, one hand carasing his sien, and moaned.

-hey! No! Don’t you dare come in the car!!

They finally made it to the village and parked. Dean came out of the car and stayed next to the back door, watching Cass.

Cass was leaning back on his seat, with his eyes closed and a quiet, calm expression on his face. He finally opened them, and came out of the impala.

He looked like a fish which had lived for too long on a dirty tank, too small for him, and suddenly found himself at a clean, nice pond.

-There is something here, Dean. Its endearing.  
-oh, please! And here we’re looking for an antichrist.

They went for the farm first. Just a 10 minutes walk (the village itself was tiny, it didn’t make any sense to take the car to anywhere in it) and they interrogated the farmer.

-I started selling chikens- he told them- there was no other modern bushines arround and it was easy, all mechanice, it made good money…  
-so. What happend?  
-I don’t know, gess the machines kept failing and we had to get rid of it all. …but the place was so nice i just thoug: “i dont have to leave. Hey, i can be much more happy the old way! I like animals, it will be just like in movies!” and so i stayed.  
-but…how do you hold the bushines?  
-well, ecologic, well cared for, meat is expensive sir. I shell it well and fresh! Bet you didnt try a burger like the ones in the corner down street fella! Just try it, and you will know what i’m talking of.

Dean knew he had to ask for weird stuff. He knew it. And he had been doing this for a while…but somehow suddenly he didn’t see need for asking the guy for paranormal activity. All he wanted to do was try that burger.

He though of it in the car. What was that? How did he suddenly refused to ask a couple simple cuestions abouth what he had come looking for? He didnt just forget, he suddenly felt like it was not so important… like when you know you shouldnt nap now, and you don’t need the rest, and you need to do something you are going to enjoy as well, but the weight of sleep just pushes you down with no excuse or way to scape…

He would think of it over the burger.

The burger was great. He had never tried nothing like it. And it had nothing special, it was just… it had everything a good, simple old fashioned burger should have, and it tasted as wnderfull as a burger should taste. He suddenly had forgotten what they wouuld talk about, but they could have come to tadfield just for the food for all he knew. Cass was busy with his burger as well anyways.

Suddenly, Dean’s phone rang. It was Sam.

-Hey Dean.  
-Sammy!  
-hey, did you find something?  
-‘bouth what? (nom)  
-am…abouth the job?  
-What job?  
-You know? The deal?  
-nuh?   
-Dean, are you drunk?  
-no! No, actually i’m habing best burger on tadfield! Dude!  
-Dean are you kidding me!? You where searching for a dead angel, over wich you almost sold you soul to Crowley! Did you find something before you stopped for a burger!?

Dean stopped right there on his tracks. He had forgotten. No. He had forgotten the importance first. Wait. When did it start? He looked at Cass across form him enjoing his meal. That was nice. Not everyday he took a moment to enjoy a burger, as much as he liked them… oh.

It was happening again. And only Sam’s voice coming from the phone kept him floating in reality this time. He panicked.

This had all started when they where arriving to Tadfield, actually, it got stronger as they aproached. He didn’t even hung the phone.

-Cass!  
-(nom)  
-Cass! Fuck, take us out of here!  
-(munch)?  
-Cass please transport me out of here now! Quik just do it! Just…!

He was in the road again. Outside. No car this time. Just him, Cass, both burger in hand, and the crossroad that took somewhere else before you kept straight to Tadfield.

Cass was still eating.

-Did you notice that?

Cass lowered his burger and lifted his chin, still munching. He took his time to think, like breathing fresh air in order to desintoxicate.

-we complitly forgot what we were doing over how…nice was that place!

He looked at his burger. He had the temptation to throw it to the ground, but was curious. He took a smal bite, and tasted it. It was good. Nothing as prefabricated as in other places. Tasty. No plastic or too much keptchup. Actually, it was probably first time he tasted something close to real hand made keptchup. But it was just a burger. 

Nothing that could not wait. Nothing to forget a deal with Crowley for. No special distraction. It was Tadfield.

Lower Tadfield, actually. It was the hambient there, that made you enjoy everything so much worries would just fall asleep. Like a somniferous for worries dispersed in the air.

A couple with problems would probably fall in love all over again while visiting Tadfield. And then continue with theyr problems while driving away. A sick person would feel much better, until he moved somehwere else. Someone with depression would be happy here, no matter how dark theyr past was.

Yes, Tadfield (Lower Tadfield) was an undiscovered paradise. As whatever made it perfect was protecting it from whatever came its way. In an unnatural way.

It was at the same time endearing and sinister. It was wiked…

It was the place.

-I told you there was something in there.

Cass eate the last piece of his burger, back to his usual self. He was fully conscient of it all.

-Dean! Dean! Say something!!- Sam’s voice sounded dangerously worried over the phone.  
-i’m here! Im here Sam. Don’t worry i’m fine.  
-Damn it Dean you scared me!  
-oh, don’t worry bro. I just found something.


	3. The second try

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Dean knows the extrange spell that falls over lower Tadfield, nothing will keep him from getting what he came for. even if he has to stand up to Adam and the them themselfs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention that to read this fic you don't need to have read the book...maybe nor have watched the show. You can meet the characters form their own point of view

Dean tried again. This time he had a plan: Sam would call him every ten minutes to remind him what he was doing, and at the first sign of distraction, Cass would come and teleport him away.

Dean was determined to get in there, take what he needed and leave with his car.

He walked on he street slaping himself every time something nice kept him staring. This put him in a bad mood, wich was a plus against the nice poison in the air. 

He didnt even care to frighten the pig farmer a little bit. 

-i tell you i have no idea what you are talking about! Would you care to leave my farm?  
-this city is weird. It can not be so hard to tell me somethig that called your atention!  
-look why don’t you go bother someone else? If not, i’ll have no choice but to call the bloddy police!  
-are they into this too? Is that what you are implying?  
-I have no idea what you mean! 

Dean’s phone rang again. He picked it up to tell Sam he was asing for directions. Sam told him to focus and be specially carefull. It didnt work so well:

Distracted with the emergency of the case, Dean had pushed too far into this civil. And distracted by the call, he gave him time to call the police. Thats the thing abouth distraction: it’s a powerfull weapon. It works in misterious ways.

Dean got caught and reduced by a police lady (or a female brute police) Dean let himself get distracted again by the conversation between her and her partner.

-He comes asking for weird stuff! Ha!! He comes a bit late…  
-Sut up brian!  
-come on! You have to admit it: he had our share, but nowourdays, the weirdest thing left in this village is your name…

The female police started the car in a way that rivaliced with Dean’s rcing and maniobres skills, withouth waiting for brian to hold on.

-Damn, Pepper! I’m sorry for hurting your feeweens!

She stopped suddenly. The guy almost hit his nose.

-Oh, excuse me. I just noticed you are not wearing the seat belt… i sugest you put it on if you are in the mood for fun.  
-hey!- complained Dean- I’m here too, you know?  
-you are in the right to stay silent.

-…so. Pepper? Is not so weird.  
-No dude, that’s the nickname…  
-shut up!  
-…she happens to be Pipin Galadriel Moonchild  
-Im gonna tell Adam abouth this!

The name didnt call Dean’s attention at first. (not as much as Pipin Galadriel Moonchild did) but the conversation whent on.

-So what? Is he gonna punish me becouse you still didn’t get over your name?  
-is not my name! I don’t think he will like to know you are spilling stuff to a fuckin hunter!  
-wha…! Im…im not! I was just…!  
-Shut up!

In that precise instant, the phone rang again. And it couldn’t be piked up, but it was enough to remind Dean there was something going on in the town…and in that car.

-…whait! What did you say?  
-nothing. Shut up.  
-you have the right to stay silent.

Dean looked at them more closely. They where arround thirty or forty… what was that name again? Something biblic…

-who’s that guy?- Cristian…no. Juan…? It wans’t even close! He was loosing it again!

Sam persisted with his call. It snapped it.

-Adam? Yes! Who’s Adam!?

Pepper stopped the car suddenly. This time for good. The town was small, after all and they where at the police station.   
There was not so much work in there. they started interrogating him right away. Dean made good use of his cards:

-i will spill everythig…but only tho that Adam guy.

And so, after a long while, and knowing Adam, they called him…just in case.  
…and he took no time in coming. This was his city after all.

He should have no permission to enter the room. But his friends let him in and no one else would notice. He was abouth their age: thirty something or forty…but he didnt look old: he looked like a greek god. Or how they would look if they where real. More than a stone statue can show. Naturally handsome. Age had never settled better on a human body. …as it was not normal.

Dean had his feelings at a crossroad: his life long experience pushed him to distrust this man, while his human instinct urged to lower his head and content him. To ignore anything suspicious abouth him like it was… asleep.

-I’ve been told you where asking for me- he said- so, what can i help you with?  
-…you! …you…  
-me. What abouth me?  
-ug. There is something in this town. You know?  
-well. I know this town quite well. But tell me abouth you. What brings you here?

Dean was feeling confused. Was it the tricky car ride? No. It was… whatever. He didnt know. …was it important? It kept scaping his thoughs…!  
He wanted to tell this man what he wanted to know. But he also was supposed to kep his job a secret…he should be the one making questions! …but…abouth what?

-where you searching for something? is that it? You searched for me?  
-no. Yes, but…i dont know jet…  
-my, did you always had shuch slippery memory? I just can’t help you if you cant remember…

Then there was a sound of flutter. And they where three now on the room.

Cass had been told by Sam to go check on Dean as he was not answering anymore.   
…and he found Dean, handcuffed alone in a room with the antichrist.

It was the antichrist. The first one. The one that started it all years ago in this same city. The same one that later had refused to participate on war. As he liked earth. He loved his city. He was on the side of humanity.

-Adam Young- Castiel saluted him, in unexpresed surprise.  
-…you…you are an angel. Are you not?  
-…you know?  
-…is not first time i encounter one like you. Its been a while, sure.

He pointed at Dean.

-so he is with you?  
-He is my protected one. I came to take him to safety. And to help him on his mission.

Adam rised from his seat calmly. But his boice, throu human, sounded poweful and demanding. Undeniable.

-what bushiness could you have on my city?  
-…  
-…  
-oh. Sorry. Why don’t you relax a bit and tel me from the beggining?

Suddenly, Dean felt the pression lifting from him, like getting out of deep water. He could think clear again. But he was more angry than sober.

-You freaking asshole!!  
-Dean.  
-You get out of my head you…bastard!  
-Dean!  
-you poor demonic bastard! Who do you think to control my thougs like this and and and…all of those people!? UH!?  
-Dean, he is the antichrist! Be carefull!

Cass was now truly worried for him.

-Calm down.

They both did. Even if just to listen.

-the energy in this city in nice. But it barely ever represses peoples thoughts. It is just a mecanism of defense. I do it without noticing.

Dean couldn’t help but feel a bit better. But he was stil a grumpy guy.

-will you help us or not?  
-so you are “the” Dean winchester. Where is your brother?  
-…on our base.  
-aha. And why did you come all the way here?  
-…i’m searching for an angel. And his grace. I think he lived not far from here and he was involved in…what happened here years ago. The apocalipse.  
-the first one- stated castiel.-You where involved too. You knew him.  
-…yes. Briefly. I velieve i only saw him once. He and his friend just passed by…at the moment. I syphaticed them though. I wanted to lend them a little help. His friend needed it more then so…i’m sorry i couln’t do much for the angel.  
-wait what do you mean? Help? Friend? What happened to the angel?  
-I don’t know, honestly. i didn’t even know until…it was too late.  
-tell me all you know. If you just keep your spell of us we can find out the rest.

Adam lifted a serious glare at him.

-Why should i help? What do i know of you? This angel was nice, but as i recall, the others wanted a war. I don’t know if i can trust you.

Dean ignored the threatning aura of a lion demanding to know why you steped into his lands. He turned to Cass.

-…is this true, Cass? Did you support the apocalipse?  
-…Dean. We were just following orders. We where told the great battle that had been written had arrived. We prepared for battle. …it was then, when nothing happend, that we knew it was a false alarm. Some of us heared Aziraphale was involved. The antichrist was mentioned too…   
-…so it was not only him. Right? What happened?

Cass stepped forward.

-I do not follow orders anymore. I try to judge for myself, and fight for earth, and humanity. We are here searchign for the angel. Then, we will just leave.  
-…you give me your word? Both of you.  
-yes.  
-…and what do you plan to do with the angel anyways?  
-…that, i can not tell you.  
-…then i will not take any part on this.  
-come on! We have a deal!  
-if i am to give you something so valuable, i need to know what will be of it!

Dean would pace if he was not chained. He suspected this guy had something more than information. But how to convince him? Should he tell him the truth? What if he didn’t like it? Better to lie.

-don’t you dare lie to me.  
-Shit!

Adam was starting to radiate anger.

-tell the truth or leave.

They had no other choice.

-ugh ok! Look, there is… this demon. He…has some…unattended bushiness with him and he send me to find him.  
-a…demon?  
-Crowley. Acording to Dean, he was very interested.  
-No he was downright fucking demanding. He will get the angel we help him or not, but if you give it to us now, we will go nicely… … …ok?

Adam took one moment to process while staring at them with very opened eyes. Then, he laughted. Dean knew it couldn’t be easy…

-Good! Ok, i’ll give it to you!  
-uuuh?


	4. The finding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cass get him out of jail. Now they can keep the search.  
> wait, what were they searching for again? Is it really out there? will it be worth the risk?

With barely any paperwork and no question from the agents Dean and Cass followed Adam into the town’s cementery. Even withouth the preassure of the hambient, the walk there was nice. Adam guided them to a tombstone placed in an aparted zone of the graveyard, where it was written “A. Zira. Fell. Guardian, Friend, Book lover”

There where old flowers on it. Adam Breathed deeply with a sad smile and then patted Dean in the soulder.

-good luck.

He walked away.

-oh, hey! Wait! …where is the rest?  
-…what rest?  
-the grace! When an angel… anyways. The day he…died, did something weird happen, near here? Anything? There has to be something else! Perhaps something…shiny?

Adam answered from the distance, casually.

-Oh, yes. In the pit. Look under the tree.

And he left.  
Dean and Cass looked at the tombstone.

-this is not what we where looking for, Dean. It is just the place where a corpse rests. Not an angel.  
-My expirience tells me we should take a peek inside. Maybe there is nothing in there and i can prove my poin.

Cass looked up and sighed. At noon, Dean spended a good time digging. When he finally reached the coffin, he looked up at Cass, dirt all over his legs, arms and a bit on his face. A proud smile on it.

-you are gonna eat you words, buddy.

Cass wanted to ask how can one…but he resisted. Dean hit once, twice, thrice… and the tape was loose. He opened it and…froze.

Cass screwed his eyes and tilted his head to the side.

The coffin was not empty. But it didnt cointain reminds.

Well, maybe. The case is, it was difficult to tell what was that!

Inside the coffing there was a body, and it was fresh like a lettuce; while it should be rotten, corrupted and dry, instead it looked like it had died two seconds ago, in a pacefull way. Like it was just sleeping, except that it did not breathe.

-How the…?

Dean had hear of corpses that where conservated intact throu the ages, like it was a miracle. This may be the case. After all, it was the corpse of an angel.

Dean kneeled next to it, and searched for a pulse. There was none. It was not cold, nor warm. And it didnt even have rigor mortis! Nor dead colours, it was like the coma state.

-Cass, can you explain this?  
-…that is not a human body, Dean. Is the body of an angel.  
-but your body belonged to a human: it is a human body. And when you are gone, it should rott…  
-my vody is a vessel, borrowed from a human who was born with it. This body was not born. It was handcrated for the angel that inhavitated it.  
-wait, wait, wait! Are you telling me, you, and any other angel, and any other deamon needed to take some inocent’s body, and this guy didn’t ‘cause he got one of his own?  
-yes.  
-how come!?  
-it was other times, Dean. He was sent to stay for millenia. Not for a few years. It was something permanent. His body wasnt born. And it did not age. Never neded to eat or breathe or rest. It wouldnt die but in case of murder or a mayor incident. Now, with the war, we can not afford to create many of this, and losse them one after the other, or leave them behind every time we pass throu heaven or hell.   
-…i see. Is more practical.  
-tecnicly, yes.  
-…and couldn’t you put it on?

Castiel looked at him with questioning expresion.

-is like a suit for angels, right? You could try it on, see if you find any clues or memories…?  
-it could be risky. We don’t know what hapened to him. And it was his, not mine. It may not suit me.  
-…yeah, of course. It was tailor-made…

Dean looked at this guy. For someone who didnt need to eat, he was plump. Blonde, dressed in simple, jet outdated clothes (a closed to the neck shirt, tartan dress vest mathing the trousers, and grandpa shoes) He had short, a bit curly hair, and it was difficult to determin his age…probably pass his thritys. He wondered how would Cass look if he had his own body…

-but…

Dean looked at Cass. He still seemed shocked.

-what?  
-it…must be malfunctioning.

Dean lifted his brows.

-…it should rott like an ordinary human body when it dies. In orded to lift no suspections. Why is it not working?

Dean added that to the list of unanswered questions.

-Maybe Sammy can tell

He said, and he lifted the body. Cass looked at him bad. Well, as bad as he could.

-what are you doing?  
-i’m doing my job: take the angel to Crowley.  
-This is a corpse.  
-I must put toghether everything i find and this is suspicious…not to mention a big evidence…

He passed the corpse over to the (living) angel, who made a face like that one time cupid hugged him.

-hold him for me, will you?  
-…why me?  
-becouse it is easier for you to hide it on the car while i close the tomb we just robbed. Hurry up!

Cass gave him one last glare and dissapeared with a flatter of wings. Dean laughted in silence.

It would soon be morning by the time he finished. He took a little walk to the so known corner to wash his hands and face and have some breakfast. (Bacon was also great in there) he asked where was the pit Adam had mentioned. He was told that it used to be a dry and dirty place with trash scattered here and there, frecuented by kids as a hiding den or something… untill suddenly, a little river nearby deformed, giving birdth to a small creek that now crosed it: the ground blossomed, the trees started giving fruit, and the famus pit that was lost somewhere between the once dry grass was now a nice little pond. The place was a nice park now, all natural.

It sounded to Dean like a grace had crashed there.

He reached the place at morning. And it was beautiful. Te rising light tinted the sky and a few clouds, creatin calming shadows between the leaves of the trees and reflexions in the water. Dean walked throu it resisting the tentaion of taking of his shoes and do it barefoot in the soft, large green grass. A soft wind would pass by from time to time, somewhere, frogs and crickets wellcomed the arrival of a new day.

He searched for a tree wich could be different from the others. It was not so hard: right next to the pond there was a big, healthy apple tree, while most of the others where fig trees.

He did not resist, however, the tentation o reaching up to eat an apple. Juicy and sweet. Like no other. He felt kind of like the real Adam. After all, he was a man.

He left the apple unfinished, and searched for a nice place between the rooths to start digging. Maybe he should have bringed the shovel. Anyways after a little whyle he reached it!

He got it out and…it was too covered in dirth to apreciate anything, so he kneeled at the pond and cleaned the thing in its waters…

It was not the grace. Damn it! He had seen a grace once or twice… right? It was suppose to be tiny, white and shiny, and locked in a glass container…this was a rock.

Maybe not just any rock…but a rock, nonetheless!

Well, he was not an expert in rocks: he could not say what type of rock it was, but it certainly was not what he was searching for! (if he was, he could notice that it was no rock known on earth. It was blue, but no zaphire, aquamarine nor sodalite, quarthz, opal nor azurite. Nor turquoise, blue dimond or sodalite either.

It was a misterious cross of male and female moonstone at the same time, with agate, or who knows what…)

Dean just looked arround thinkig of what to do now. And he saw something.  
A fliker of bague light, down in the depths of the water. He put the stone into his pocket, took of his shoes, and walked into the pond withouth thinking twice.

The water was higer than his waist when he reached to see the center of the pond: the pit. He had been told there was a pit somewhere, that was now covered by water.   
What he was searching for, just might be down there.

He threw his jacket to the shore, and jumped head first to the water… but the pit was deep and he couldn’t make it. So he got out, shook as well as he could the water from his clothes, and called Cass. While doing so, he finaly got to try the wet grass with his barefoot, and sit for a moment.

“Sammy should be here” he though.

Castiel was there.

-yes, Dean?  
-i think the grace is in the bottom of the pit, but i can not reach it.

Cass took a moment to look at the place, then dissapeared.   
He came back again, and he was holding a glass container with the white, tiny light on it.


	5. return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cass come back with what looks like a dead body. they will have to fix it, they can not give it to Crowley like this!

Dean rolled his eyes and didn’t stop complaining when he discovered Cass had “hidden” the body in the backseat. He explained the angel that, when you carry a dead body illegaly the lees you can do is put it on the back of the car, so it is less suspicious at first freaking sight!!

They sat in the car, and, in the flicker of an eye, they where parked at the bunker.

-Sammy! I’m hooome!

Sam came out of somewhere and made a face when he saw his brother coming in with a dead body on his arms.

-Wow, woow! Dean, cremating a corpse is one thing, but stealing it is different!  
-Oh, dont worry. Is just an angel suit.

He placed it on the couch.

-not the couch!  
-give me a break, will you? I found the grace, and the angel! We got the favour of fucking king of hell.  
-Dean. That is not true.

Dean made a tired face.

-Now what, Cass?  
-I told you. That is not the angel. Is just the body he used to habitate. The angel is dead.  
-but we got the graze.  
-the graze could be given to some other angel, but is still not his soul, nor his life. If you put the Graze into that body, a miracle may happen and it starts breathing but it still won’t be Aziraphale. Aziraphale is gone.

Dean felt all his happines and pride for a well done job turn into annoyment.

-and why didn’t you tell me before bringing me back from London, Tadfield! Where i was studying the case? Look guys i know you don’t trust me. And you don’t believe i can make this. But can we just try? Please! “The angel is gone” well, let’s find out where. “the angel is dead” well, what happened to him? I Got already so far and i am still pulling from you guys!

A little silence fell over the surfaces of the room like a layer of dust. Then Sam got up.

-I will take a look at the body, see what happened to it.  
-oh good, becouse it is still fresh and we don’t even know why. Thank you, Sam.  
-i am…i don’t know how to help, Dean.  
-well you actually did something by coming with me and stuff. You can…take a break.

Dean let his arms fall and patted his sides. He felt it then. He remembered. The stone, still on his poket.

-Cass, maybe you can help me?

Sam distracted them.

-What could kill an angel?  
-…an angel blade.  
-what else?  
-a more powerful angel. With a blast of energy, maybe.  
-..that would harm the body?  
-I exploded.

Dean walked next to the others, to the sofa.

The body had no broken bones nor scratches. No marks on the skin of any kind, no shades nor simptoms of poisoning, indigestion or illnes. It’s hair was helthy and it’s nails carefully manicured.

-I am no expert but i just don’t find a cause of death. Bedsides it doesnt feel bery dead neither. No rigor mortis nor pale skin…when did you get him out?  
-a few hours ago, but it had been down there for years. That’s the mistery!

Out of curiosity, Castiel carassed the skin of the corpse. Something finally hit him on the back of his head.

-The angel was killed appart from the body. Maybe from within. The angel died, but it didn’t afect the container. It is…like Sam’s computer while he is not using it. It is not broken. Just…turned down.  
-…so it could still be used? Could you tri it?  
-I don’t know Dean, maybe i could try. …but this is a bad sign.  
-…how come?  
-there’s a lot less chances that Aziraphale is alive. I’m sorry, Dean.

Dean Groaned.

-you may be right but i still have to find all clues of…oh wait.

He took the stone out of his pocket.

-this is what Adam buried under the tree, where the graze fell. I don’t know what to do with it, but do you thing it could be…dunno, one of his possesions?

Cas was staring at the stone like it could explode.

-Cass?

The angel walked carefully up to him and, tentativelly, carassed the surfice of the stone. He flinched his hand away. There it was.

-you where right. Crowley was right. He is not dead.  
-wow what!?

Dean holded out the rock like it was a crumpled paper he had on his pocket, and he just found out it was a winning ticket for a millionare life.

-it is…like…his sparckle of life. It was not consumed: but solidified. Someone had to do this. Someone had to… tear him apart and seal him like this. But why?

-So, i was right. Right?  
-…yes.  
-…can you say that again? Please, Cass i need to hear it.  
-…you where right?  
-Yeah!! Eat that suckers!!

Sam rolled his eyes. Dean finally finnished dancing and jumping arround and asked Cass.

-so, how do we give it to him?  
-…i don’t know. Guess first thing is break the seal.

He carefully took the gem in his hand, and placed it gently over the body’s chest. Then, opened his palm on his direction, and concentrated.

The room arround him started trembling. The lights flikered. Glasses and plates broke and stone cracked before the gem finally craked too.

And a bright, blinding light emanated from it. Castiel pressed it against the body with all his force, like holding back a water current in order to direct it back.

In the process, the body flinched and arched its back, light filling it, scaping from it’s eyes, mouth gashpng like it was coming back from the dead (wich was actually the case) then, suddenly the light was gone. Castiel stepped back. And the body kept shaking, but calmed ‘till it reached a stop.

It looked as fresh as before. But now it was undoubtly alive. Breathing, a pulse runing through his veins, his eyes mobing nerviously under his eyelids, like he was habing a nightmare.

-There! job done. Finally…

Dean stoped smiling. He had just realiced something: what to do with the graze?

Crowley had asked for the angel, reclaiming it like it belonged to him. But he hadn’t specified what he planed on doing with him. Torture him for information? Sell his powers? Use them? Keep him as an slave?

Dean would give him back his graze, but maybe that was not what Crowley wanted.  
This lifted a little but intense debate in the bunker. Dean found himself being lawyer of the devil. 

-You just now realice you are selling an angel over to Crowley? The king of hell?  
-i know! What i don’t know is what to do. Some angels are bastards, for all we know he could kill us and then flee.  
-Aziraphale was encaged before the war. He knows nothing of this.  
-he was encaged at the beggining of all this mess. He could be involved.  
-Dean. You must know that along his mission, Aziraphale compited with and defeated Crowley several times. His intentions will be rencorous and cruel.  
-ok, he got in trouble with Crowley, but by sacrificing him we get hell on our side. Fucking hell!  
-Well, if we give him his graze, we won’t be breaking our part: he asked for the angel. He didn’t specified if he wanted him on one piece or…pieces.  
-If we don’t do this right i don’t think he will just work for us propperly. Is freaking Crowley! Heck! He will probably find a way to fool us even if we do it the way he wants!  
-Dean!- Cass looked at him with his pleadng face- you are really going to turn my inocent brother, over to a demon, unarmed.

Dean made a hurt expression when he had to look at that hurtfull gaze.

-…Cass… i’m sorry.

With little to no change on his face, Cass looked even more hurt and dissapointed, and left. Dean damned all hell and all heaven and the earth too, in a collection of insults and kicks. Sam sat down and passed a hand trhou his hair.

-there has to be other way. We have time to think anyways, right?  
-….right.


	6. collecting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean got what crowley asked for, and only now that he has a break he questions himself...  
> should he do this? is it a good idea? can he trust the deamon King?  
> will he make a choice before time's up?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is an scene in this chapter that may very easily be my favourite in the fic.  
> it is the one that started the whole thing. pretty much
> 
> so, really hope you like it

Dean tried to think over it with a beer. Sam kept on discussing, but he didn’t want to listen. Cass’s last words made an echo in his head: this was Cass’s brother.  
But he could not compare him with Sammy, right? Cass himself had kill some of his brothers…even thou this guy had been sleeping all this time…it was worth the sacrifice. …right? They didn’t know what Crowley wanted from him. Maybe he just wanted a deal… right?

Hours later Dean walked into the kitchen. Right before he could stend his hand towards the fridge Cass appeared in between. Right in front of him. Maybe too close.

-…Cass!

The angel tended him a paper bag. Dean took it and peeked inside. There was a burger form Tadfile and a nice pie.

-oh. Man, thanks!  
-…Dean. …Please don’t just give him away like that.

Dean looked at his puppy blue eyes with sorrow and worry. He would please Crowley by hurting his buddy.

-ok, ok look…don’t give me that look! Maybe we could…um uh… ok we could give it to him, his graze, back, you know…-Cass looked already happier and thankfull  
-but, trap him with holly fire or something just so he won’t get away. So, if Crowley is an asshole, we can allways set him free…ok?

Cass looked hopefull, at the very least.

-Thanks, Dean.  
-No prob. Thanks for the pie.

They sorrounded the couch with the oil before they gave him the graze. This time an extrange wind passed by shaking the whole bunker.  
The angel still didn’t wake up. None of them had the courage to wake him up to tell him what they would do to him.

The entire day and night passed by with no news nor couch. As it was being occupied. Dean drank, Sam paced. Cass stared…  
At midday next day Dean just had to get out for more pie or beer or…something!

Crowley appeared next to him. Great.

-Hello, Deany!  
-Damn!  
-Close.  
-What do you want?

The deamon crosed one leg over the other and looked at him with asmile. Knowing him, he was damn scary.

-you know what i want. I want good knews. Don’t you have nothing for me…?

Oh shit. He knew. No use holding back now.

-oh. Yeah. See uh…i was just…waiting for you to call. Jus, can we talk a little bit, abouth this, before you…?  
-What- The demon cut him- Talk abouth WHAT.

Oh SHIT.

-I had come just for news on the research. And you…

Crowley leaned closer in a meanecing way jus as Dean sunk back.

-…you had him already and didn’t tell me!!?

One second of silence. The next. Dean was alone. Crowley was in front of the door, knoking with his fist, and a streingt that shook the whole building.

-Open up you assholes!! I came for what’s mine!

Knife in hand, Sam carefully opened the door. Crowley pushed him aside with an angry “move it moose!” and walked in at a high peace, stomping the floor.  
He found Cass standing in a mild menacing way between him and the couch. With no words, but a powerful glare, the angel left way for him to pass, and pitifully watched as he took over his sleeping brother. The tree habitants of the bunker did.

Crowley slowed his peace as he aproached the couch, and contemplated in silence the figure lying on it. He noticed the oil on the floor, and with a gesture of his hand, waved a good part of it away. Like it was a fly.

He stteped into the circle, and leaned in.  
Slowly, gently, he shoked the angel by the shoulder.

-…Angel. …Zira? Wake up.

Slowly, weakly, blue eyes like the stone that had held him captive (they say they are the windows of the soul) flikered open.  
The heavenly creature looked arround until his blue orves focused on Crowley. He looked ansious.

-Aziraphale. It’s me. You know me.

And the angel took a moment, and blinked, and then he said.

-…Crowley?

Crowley smiled.

-Yes. Yes it’s me!  
-…you look…diferent. Is that a new body?  
-Yes it is. …kind of.

The angel lifted a hand frail like crumpled and opened paper, and placed it on his cheek, in a curious way.

-…the cheekbones where nice. But this suits you better.  
-It does?  
-hum. It shows your age.  
-Hump- the king of hell was smiling dearly. Dean was about to faint out of confusion. His brother had his eyebrows so crunched thoghether they looked like an abano you jumped on.

-…you’ve got human eyes. …how did you do that?

Crowley fliked his tounge and took air. He placed a hand on the angel’s forearm that was rised towards him.

-it’s kind of a long story. I will explain it all later. How are you feeling?  
-…confused…you know sleeping is not my thing…is that an scottish acent?  
-Rest. You need it. I’ll be arround if you need anything.  
-…what happened?  
-rest.

The angel obliged. He shut his eyes once more. His head lied steady and he drifted off to sleep.  
Crowley didn’t move for a while. He liked his lips and bited the inside of them. Rised back to a full standing position, and contemplated the angel. Then, after a few minutes of eternity, he found the kitchen with his gaze, and walked in.

The other three took a while, but then, carefully, cowardly, walked to the front of the kitchen.   
Crowley was making tea.  
Not only Cass, the trhee of them tilted the head to one side at the same time.  
Many glances and gestures where exchanged but no one dared say a word higher than a wishper untill Crowley finished the tea and they got out of his way so he could go back to the couch, and place a silverplate on a low table next to the couch, where he sat again looking at the angel thoughtfully.

He finally seemed to remember something that needed to be done, and turned towards the trio.

-Hey, Dean.

Dean flinched in freaking surprise.

-uh…yeah?  
-you and i have to speak of bushiness. …hell is at your feet now. A deal is a deal.

Dean’s eyebrows nearly crosed his entire forehead. He moved his shoulders like saying “well, that was easy” but in an insecure, shaky way.

-oh. Gee… good to know!  
-just one little detail- Crowley got up and walked up to him- Try not to make it seem obvious, nor call attention. Just call me when you need something- he got pen and paper out and scribbled something- my people doesn’t know and as longer it stays that way longer i can help you with all the forces of hell.

He handed the paper to Dean. It was a handfull of contacts, from phones, to spells, passing by a radio channel. At the end, there was the acronym “C.H.K.” (For “Crowley Hell King” as he liked too much his title to think of a propper coded name)

-then, if i’m still alive, i will help you however i can.  
-Ok. Um… so… what’s with the angel?  
-Oh, he will have to stay here. And don’t disturb his rest. He doesn’t really sleep that much.

Then Crowley bounced back and fort, looking in the direction of the couch. He seemed to be making a decision.  
Finally he made an expresion and vanished.

Dean’s face made many expresions before he turned towards Castiel and asked him “what the hell was that for?”

-I don’t know. I though they would be hostile with each other. They where archnemesis for milenia before Aziraphale was taken down.  
-Maybe Crowley is going easy on him ‘till he recovers- Ventured Sam- …but plans on take information from him or something?  
-Sam have you seen that? It didnt seem hostile for me.  
-…I have no idea, Dean. Maybe we can ask them later.  
-Oh i don’t know if i wanna know. But i know one thing.

He rised the paper to eye level and pointed at it like it was an universal golden vip card.

-“hell is at my feet”- he got his phone out, and whent for a beer, while typing his new contacts for a moment of necesity.

-i suggest you start planing how to use the recourses i just got us, Sammy!

And Sam looked at Cass with his lips tighten up in a fine line.


	7. back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean should have read the full contract: he didn't know he had to babysit.

It was two hours later when Aziraphale started moving on his slep and making noises. Crowley came back out of nowhere and didn’t even bother to salute the brothers nor the angel on a trenchcoat. He made a beeline for the couch, and sat down on his seat, right in front of it.

-wakey wakey shunshine.

The angel breathed deeply and opened his eyes slowly. This time he took the demon into sight instantly.

-Good morning- he managed, with a sleepy voice.  
-It’s after noon, actually.  
-oh- the angel tried to incorporate- Pardon. Good afternoon.

Crowley smiled wikedly. He just knew he would say that. He ofered the angel a cup of tea. The angel saw it and reached for it automaticly. Looking much reconforted.

-Thanks.  
-you’r welcome. How are you feeling now?  
-mh…i don’t know how could you get used to this. Is like a slight hangover. Do people realy experience this every morning?  
-plus, naps. Yeah. You get used to it. It will wash off soon. I suggest you eat something with sugar.

Next to the tea appeared some recently backed biscuits. The angel made a huming sound and took one before even salowing his tea first. The demon chucled.

Sam had a hand on his chin, and was watching them from a safe distance like one tries to guess somebody’s thoughts after watching an almost scientific tv program. 

-i think he might be drugging him with the food in order to use him somehow…or gain information.

Dean watched too, beer in his hand. Like one watched two dogs fighting over a stick.

-i honestly don’t know and i honestly don’t give a fuck.

Next to them, Cass just kept staring. And staring. And staring…he just knew sooner or later they would start talking of competition on bushiness, or continue with an old fight, or at least he would get a hint of the complicated code they where using on the conversation…

but this didn’t happen. The two inmortal creatures where talking in their own languaje, that’s for sure, but it was not coded.

The angel let go a yawn.

-oh, im sorry. That keeps hapening to me.  
-you need rest. And some more cookies. Take your time… by the way, i got you something.

Crowley snaped his fingers while Aziraphale muttered something like “oh, you really didn’t have to…”

-…is that…a hellhound?  
-Her name is Juliet.  
-but…you don’t like animals.  
-don’t say that. She is quite sensitive- he talked in a sassy ass tone.  
-you have always prefered plants! Before cars where invented you coulnd’t hold onto a demon horse across five meters.

Crowley chucled at the memories. –Plants! That’s right. Nah…as fast as you get the trick theese can be quite usefull- he patted the back of an invisible creature, wich was aparently higher than him while being sat.

-She is yours now. She will ovey to you and make sure you don’t get into trouble while you are stil…sleepy.

The angel opened his eyes very much and made an “O” with his mouth. No sound involved. Across the room Cass changed position like he had not hear well, while Dean had some trouble sallowing his beer, and Sam asked him “can he really do that?”

Crowley made a gesture on the air, carefully pushing the invisible creature towards the couch. Aziraphale lifted a carefull hand, let the creature sniff for a while and then carased it tentatively.

They could swear an unnatural sound of dog wimpering filed the room for a moment, and suddenly the light started afecting te air diferently in the space between the angel’s and the demon’s hands. Hardly but still, you could guess a kind of shilouette of a monster, dog shaped, big like a small horse, but longer, black with red eyes and a drolling mouth…wich oh so extrangely shrinked and morfed, and took new colours…

…untill it reached the size of a middle sized dog, black but also white and grey, with a short tail. It was some cross breed of arlequin border collie.

There are species with more feral nature than others. And inside tem, breeds with even more variety.   
Juliet had no choice but to embrace her new nature and shrink, waging her tail docily, liking her new master’s hand.

-uh…-Crowley looked at her like she had been victing of a dissapointing waste- The same as my plants. You spoild them at the touch.

Aziraphale kept looking at the dog while she jumped to the cocuh.

-You always had an awfull taste.  
-remember Dog?- crowley crinched at the mention  
-how to forget!

He turned without other word, and moved towards the boys.

-I’d like to have a detailed inform of the research.  
-uh…sure. I also would like to know what the heck was that about.

Crowley smiled the way he smiles when he doesn’t like the offer, crinching his nose. Then he patted Dean’s shoulder with a faint laught.

-yeah, see…

Dean had no chance to cringe away before Crowley had graved him by the back of the head and entered his thoughs.

He scanned everything regarding the past three days at the speed of a nightmare unrecorded by the rem memory of the brain, and then let go.

Dean stumbled backwards. Sam called his atention with a demanding shout. Cass stepped between them in a menancing way.

Crowley backed safely with his hands in high.

-I couln’t have done that if i was not in my right: we had a deal.  
-Son of a bich!  
-don’t worry i didn’t snoop arround in your intimacy. …i don’t know if i want to know what i would find- he said looking at Cass.

Then he turned and walked towards the door. On his way, he saw Aziraphale liying back on the couch, sleepely carasing Juliet, who had made herself a nest in the crok of his legs, and had her head soported on them. She looked at Crowley with a content pant.

Crowley huffed and dessapeared in the middle of his walk.

-Cass are you sure these two use to be enemies?  
-They compited over earth for six milenia. Aziraphale sent us constant reports of his victories over Crowley- he himself didn’t sound so convinced.  
-maybe it was other Crowley.  
-yeah. Like one Crowley wasn’t enough

Cass didn’t answer. He kept staring at the angel in the couch, and stayed there until Sam and Dean decided to distract their questioning minds with something else.   
35 minutes passed by with Castel not making a move, until he sensed te other angel in the room shifting on his sleep. He steped forwards.

As he aproached the couch, Juliet softly growled at him. Castiel took a moment. The creature was still a hellhound, after all.

-Hush- he wispered, emanating his most nice and gentle intentions. The dog understood he had no hostile intentions, but such energy also hit her like a wave of too hot water.  
With a quiet wimper she jumped off the couch and crawled under it. She still looked at the angel in a trench coat from her new post.

Castiel extended his mind to the sleeping one’s mind. It was fairly calm, but confused. And his energy was drained. He wouldn’t sleep for much longer, as the sleep wasn’t truly helping that much: he just needed time to heal. He was just weak.

Suddenly the other sighed, and opened his eyes. He saw Cass. It took him a moment, but he recgniced the taste of the energy.

-hello, brother.   
-…hello.  
-what brings you to earth?

Castiel could have tell him everything that had happen, but that was not his question. Bedsides he was not so confortable with all of his story.

-i was sent here to watch over a human.  
-…i see. Where on earth are we?   
-a bunker in levanon, Kansas. North America.

Aziraphale screw his eyes slightly.

-a bunker? Why?  
-so we are not found.  
-…oh. Is your protected one…?  
-hey Cass!

Dean interrupted him.

-can you please come here a second?

Castiel obliged –what do you need, Dean?  
-listen, uh…i don’t think you should just tell him abouth everything that has been going on.

Cass eyed him with curiosity.- why not?  
-well, ‘couse…couse… the poor guys is… look at him! He is…he is…

Gone. The couch only had a nice dog on it.

-Oh no. You scared him!  
-i…uh?

Dean though of Crowley as an angry mother atacking the babysitter that just lost her child. It was not only a weird idea, it was also terrifying. He called Sam with urgency.

-Sam! Sam, we lost an angel! We gotta find it again before…

Sam was very still, only moving his eyes from Dean to the bookshelfs and back. Dean looked in shuch direction. There he was.

Wlking among the selfs like a careless lady in the supermarket, already three tomes on his arms, and counting. Dean remembered the inscription in his tomb:

“guardian, friend, book lover”

-…i was thinking of wha to say to him…- Sam looked like a profesional wrestler holding a todler for the first time, and not knowing what to do.  
-don’t. just… let’s hope he stays entertined enough time for Crowley to come back. if he reads at a normal pace…

Aziraphale took jet another big, heavy looking tome.

-…we should have time.  
-what if not?  
-then uh… plan b: i call Crowley while you tell him a story.

Dean patted his arm. It was like babysitting superman’s hybrid baby.


	8. chapter 8...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Sammy has to recur to plan b..and it fails.
> 
> oh my

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am sorry for publishing so late this time! stuff kept me bushy.  
> hope you like it, reviews are wellcome, that includes constructive critics,   
> and all that stuff you know.

Sam looked at the angel discretly while he kept colecting books around the library.  
…but he didn’t know what way to look at him when the angel came to sit in a nearby table and smiled politely at him. Sam just smiled back nerviously and pretended to be typing on his laptop. Just a few minutes later te subject of his nerviousness interrupted him again.

-excuse me.  
-uh…uh?  
-pardon me boy, but, have you read any of this books?

Dean froze. Should he tell him that he worked daily with such books, on his research for supernatural causes? Should he think of a distracting story? Think, dammit, Sammy!

-uh… a little bit…maybe?  
-do you mean you’ve read some of this?

The angel’s eyes where piercing, difficult to lie at, like he a sphinx, at the movie where they fry you in place if they detect either fear or a lie, but the calm and dominat nature of a mother.  
Sam had no streinght to lie to his face, he went for a half true.

-uh…yeah, well, mostly?

…short of.

The angel sat straighter, his eyelids closing a little, in a suspicious way.

-excuse me- he got up and walked, slowly, down stairs. Right into Castiel.

-Castiel- he said in a firm, calming and demanding tone- Does your protected one knoe abouth our nature?

Castiel stood there like a metal statue of a peasant, wich you pretend you can speak to.  
But Aziraphale had a patience that rivaliced that of the ancient Morla. He managed to make Castiel himself feel uneasy, (he was, after all, a higer rank) and Castiel had to at least try for a decent answer.

-…i am not sure i should tell you…any detils.

Close anough. Aziraphale breathed deeply and he turned on his heels, on search for that other habitant of the bunker he had seen before, the one who talked to Castiel right before he became so silent. The one who seemed to be the angel’s protected one…and maybe a big influence.

Dean nearly chocked on his beer.

-Hello, boy. My name is A. Zira Fell.  
-eh…hello. I’m Dean. –here goes a pause- Dean winchester.  
-My pleasure. May i ask. Are you familiariced with the nature of my…aquitance, over there?  
-…the guy in the trenchcoat?  
-precisely. I guess you have read some of the books in this library as well. Am i right?

Dean gave a natural, naughty kid pretending not to be caught stealing cookies smile and said- i am not the reading type, sir. Hehe…

He took Aziraphale’s pause for efect as a chance for excapatory.

-Give me just one moment, mate, i need to make a couple calls…

Sam’s phone started ringing. Why was Dean calling him from just beneath his floor?

-Saaam!- He spoke in a wishpering tone.  
-What is it?  
-why didn’t you follow plan b? execute plan b right now!  
-why? Is he trying to scape?  
-worst. –He turnedarround and covered the phone with one hand- he is making to many questions, i don’t know what to say! That’s your jurisdiction.   
-You are the best one at making up lies.  
-just get me a distraction while i call Crowley!  
-Dean, i don’t think we…uh… Dean!

Dean had hung up. He turned to the angel once more. His face was that of a stone statue. …a guardian of the doors of hell stone statue. He gave is best liar’s guilty smile.

-just one minute more…  
-hey! Um...Azirafel?

The angel lifted his gaze towards Sam, making silly signals at him from up the stairs. Sam saw his expression. He also saw Castiel’s, wich was, expresionlessly scared.

-uh…i found something you might wanna read. It is quite urgent.

Aziraphale didn’t move.

-Crowley!-Dean lowered his boice to such a raspy wisper he was abouth to damage his voice.  
-What is it, winchester?  
-your angel in on the loose. He is making questions, this was not a part of the deal.  
-Can i not leave you alone for one day?  
-Is your angel, you deal with him!

Dean listened the call end, and found himself alone, right in front of the principality’s furious gaze.

-my- he just said- what could be written there that can not wait for me to go read it?  
-Don’t expect the moose to make much sense- Crowley’s voice interrupted him, right behind his back, a few steps from him.  
-he competes with that other one in stupidity- he signaled Dean with his head.  
-hey!  
-sorry, squirrel. Let me take it from here.  
-Crowley.

The king of Hell lifted his chin at the angel like he was ready to make true bushiness with him.

-Did you go as far as to include this…men, into bushines of…our people?  
-oh no i didn’t. they where far beyond by the time i met them. This kids have a talent to get into trouble without any help. If anything- he added- they dragged me into trouble.

Aziraphale made a quite expresive confused face. Nothing to compare Castiel’s.

-Is this why they live in a bunker? Do you know what is in those books? Crowley they can not possibly be the only ones to…  
-Relax, Angel. That’s why i brought you here.  
-well, why? Do tell me.

The king of hell breathed deeply. Calculating his next move.

-Why don’t we sit and chat over a bottle of wine? Is kind of a long story.  
-oh, i’m not in the mode for your games, you old serpent.  
-no games, i promise! Just the two of us. And a bottle of whine.

Once again the three ocupants of the bunker contemplated in frozen silence the exchange of the two beings. For theyr surprise, the angel walked next to the devil right into the couch, where he patted juliet’s head before acepting a cup of glass Crowley had just taken from his jaket. He let the arm extended util Crowley filled it with one just appeared exclusive red wine. And to re shock of Castiel, drank it right away without any doubth.

He then made a relaxing noise as he reclined backwards, and took a moment.

-how long was i asleep, Crowley?  
The demon took his time to empty the glass, and refilled it. He didn’t answer untill he had taken another sip, and refilled the angel’s glass.

-Quite a while, angel. Specially for someone like you. Who prefers to empty a library before taking any sleep. Say, why don’t you read now that you are in a library? I though you would like…  
-Answer my question Crowley- he drank again- why a bunker?

Crowley breathed deeply. He drank again. Refilled his glass and the angel’s glass, who reached out for more.

-things changed while you where sleeping, Zira. It is…risky out there.  
-how risky exactly? You are not violating the Arrangement, are you?

Crowley felt offended. Moved forward like a snake defending his place would.

-for a principality who was lock aways from his graze and form, and sealed away for years, who has just woken up and has not even half his powers back, well, risky enough to hid in a bloddy bunker, yes!

Dean and Sam looked at each other, fearing a fight would destroy the bunker from withing, wondering if it was god idea to abandon it. Castiel didn’t move, except to hold the angel blade under his coat.

Aziraphale barely gaped. He then reasumed his angry look with a sight and took the bottle of wine from Crowley’s hand, serving (and consuming) two consecutive glases. He then ofered the bottle back, nearly empty.

-it is “whom”, not “who”- he corrected him before taking other sip.

Crowley seemed suddenly happy. He smiled and drank what was left of the wine directly from the bottle.

-allow me- started the angel this time. Pulling out an spanish pink wine. Not so expensive, but good, as well.

Well, thank you- Crowley said, filling his cup and drinking at the same time as the angel.

Hom, from his seat, asked in a not so casual tone:

-so, what is in it for you?  
-…for me? Well, nothing, of course, you know.  
-no i don’t. why help me?  
-…is all for the arrangement- he drank again- if your side decided to replace you and send a new...agent in your place, well, it could be another few millenia ‘till i convince him into the arrangement. Don’t you think? It would cause…colateral damage, to my bushiness.  
-…colateral damage  
-yeah. Precisely.  
-to your bushiness.  
-aja.  
-what bushines is that, may i ask?

Crowley emptied his glass down the wrong side, and into the floor. The king of hell coughed pitifuly, as his human body forgot it didn’t really needed to breath.

-oh, im sorry- the angel handed him a handchief. Crowley acepted it. Dean, right then and there decided he didn’t give a fuck anymore. He needed another beer.

-I can not tell you right away, mate..you know um…my superiors  
-i know when you lie, demon.  
-shut up! You know im as honest with you as any demon can be.

the angel drank again, not loosing sight of the other’s glasses. With two bottles of wine down and one to go, the demon had the angel right where he wanted: distracted from his curiousity. And he was a bit more talkative, just like aziraphale Intended. Still, and all for the sake of their respective intentions, the conversation kept falling downwards from its original purpose.

-the case, the cas… the case is you don’t need to worry! Ok? We still have dophins…and…n’d…those ghorillas mahing nests right?  
-right.  
-just like birds.  
-just like birds.  
-aja. …are you sure they do like birds?  
-don’t start with the mountain ‘nd the bird you…you! Ah…we should just sover up.  
-oh nononono…we haven’t finished the wine. It is a really good wine, it would be a pity…

It was also the fift botle of wine.

-but this wasn’t ‘bout wine!- Aziraphale whined. (no pun intended)  
-‘s a really good wine, very old. Lots of time waiting for this…  
-time…time that ‘s it!- Aziraphale pointed a finger at Crowley.  
-how long has it been?  
-fuck!  
-wash your moth!and spit it.  
-i don’t know! Less than a human life, ok? That…that Adam kid, i think he’s still alive.  
-uh? How’s he going?  
-you could ask him ‘bout this time, i think i culd hire squirrel again for that?  
-time… time… time… i had something to do…wait…- he suddenly sovered up- my library!!

-oh! That reminds me…  
-what was of my bookshop? I had it just back on track, sold all the children books and found…  
-relax, relax angel- Crowley was sover again somehow.  
-how could i relax? Don’t you tell me to relax!  
-don’t worry! See, i took care of everything. The bookshop is long gone.

The angel paled.

-…g-gone?  
-gone.  
-…all of it?  
-yep. Not one single paper left.  
-…gone. Twice in a row.

The angel sank in his place, Juliet long ago asleep under his legs. He took the glass and filled it with more wine. Before he could empty it Crowley holded his hand on his, and took the cup away.

-i got a little something for you angel.   
He placed something in its place, and when he retired his hand, Aziraphaled found himself staring at a black tiny box.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley finds a god way to keep Aziraphale occupied....  
> perhaps too ocupied. Let Sammy deal with it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry for taking long again...this time i can blame the conexión to internet

-What is this? Another gift?  
-not so expensive this time. Don’t read too much into it, angel.

Crowley spit the last word with disgust, pretending to be still drunk.

Aziraphale opened it. Inside there was a pendant, with a cristal that imitated quite perfectly a blue rock Crowley had found i someone’s memories.

-jewlery? Are you serious? This is another joke.

The demon ofthen had bothered him with insinuations abouth his afection for earthly stuff. Maybe this was an atempt to easy the pain for his beloved lost books.

-Is not that, but what’s inside.  
-uh? may i break it?  
-are you truly an angel? Open it!

Aziraphale looked around the extrange pendant and found a way to pen it like it was a disguised compartiment…but it was not. It had metal stiking out of it.

-now follow me- Crowley walked towards Sam withouth looking back. the hunter had long since given up listening to them, and was now working on his computer. Not anymore after Crowley said- do you mind? Thank you…- and with a wave of hand swept the chair across the room, leaving the computer free for himself.

-now, that wasn’t very kind…

Crowley took another chair, and placed it on place, gesturing for the angel to take sit. He watched him suspiciously, but then obliged. The demon waved his hand so all previous researchs abouth angeology and demon folclore Sam had been doing were gone, and hapily demanded:

-Plug it in.  
-where?  
-use you brain, feathers. No need to force it.

Aziraphale searched ‘till he found the usb port, and after a couple of tries, inserted the pendrive in it. Crowley signaled wat to do with the mouse.

-this is a mouse? …and this a computer! My, is nothing like mine…  
-tecnology advances faster than we imagine, doesn’t? press there, you are gonna love it.

Aziraphale did, and at first he didn’t quite undestand what was on screen. It took him a minute, and a couple of tries with the mouse.

Slow understanding and shock creeped onto his face, suddenly.

-it’s… it is…

Crowley reeched down into his ear, and wispered smiling.

-your library. All of it. Page by page, and some more. In both images, and correspondent filed texts. So you don’t have to sell it anymore. Nor keep a place for it. You can just carry…it…with you…

Anywhere, anytime. And access…from this same spot. Portable, of course.

“guardian, friend…booklover” if Aziraphale was breathing right then, he would be hiperventilating. He even forgot to babble some response. The demon knew him. And he just walked away, knowing this would be more than enough to keep the angel entertained for quite a long while.

Aziraphale didn’t move from the chair in hours. Sam had no heart (nor breavury) to bother him. He just found something else to entertain himself.  
…and later on, as his computer was still occupied, he started research at the bunker’s library. He finished research and headed down for dinner, and then he went to sleep.  
…in the morning, he went for his computer and it was still occupied.

Aziraphale had surrounded the laptop with books and notes. Sam had the sincere temtation to politely shoo him, but he didn’t. he just tightened his lips in a very fine line, rised his hands in a gesture and walked back downstairs. He deserved a good breakfast.

-so he has claimed your computer. Well, not bad, as long as he stays sat like a good boy- razoned Dean.  
-yeah. What if he decided to settle in your car and use it as a nest, and didn’t get up, like, ever?  
-don’t put baby into this.

Sam tried to take it like vacations, and watch some tv… or something. wait, tv in the morning? He was not so desperate jet, right?  
He ended up reading newspapers, seeing what was going on lately and looking for anything suspicious.

Suddenly Aziraphale was there.

-wow!  
-sorry. It was not my intention to disturb you…  
-is ok, is ok.- he said, (thou he meant “then give me back my laptop!”)  
-is just that i…uh, i’m so sorry, but i fear…well, i don’t know how to say this.  
-what? Don’t worry, what is it?  
-…i think i may have broken your computer.

Sam didn’t react, but his brow twitched.

-u…what?  
-i-i just don’t know what happened to it, it was working just fine and then suddenlly…well, it all went black.

The dramatic tone wasn’t helping. Sam got up (more likely stumbled) and went upstairs followed by the angel muttering things like “oh dear” and “i’m terribly sorry”  
He got to the poor thing, and tried to turn it on. It didn’t. it was pluged in, so the battery wasn’t a prblem either. He laid a hand on it…and it was burning.

He had to retire the hand fast, in order not to feel the burn. He smiled.

-what is it?  
-oh… well, i think it was just too warm…  
-it has a…what now?  
-you see, when you use it for too long, it gets hotter and hotter, and that is dangerous, so it has an emergency sistem to turn itself down ‘till it cools up.  
-…oh. So is just…resting?  
-yeah, most likely. You gave it a hard time.

The angel seemed more relieved.

-well i’m terribly sorry for that… i hope it is ok after it’s… cold again?  
-yeah, probably. …where you doing something very…urgent?  
-uh? no, nothing really. Well, investigation, mostly. See, it’s been a while and i was just…catching up?  
-right. These books…?  
-oh, true! Maybe you can help me…

Aziraphale explained Sam a few of his doubhts about the computer’s function. Sam was quite shoked when he understood what the blessed creature had been working on for all this time: he had atempted to translate the whole bunker’s library (or what he considered most urgent and interesting of it) into filed data. Passing the boks from paper to filed text, like crowley had done with his old library.

Sam masaged the bridge of his nose, and his temples, before he sat down with the angel and gave him something like “the talk” but regarding tecnology. The basics, really. Propper storage, comunication and a bit of internet. Safety mostly. 

He made sure to explain him, in the most gentle way, that the laptop was his, and he needed it to work.

Afterwards, he sat back and waited. He had quite the experience with another angels and he knew his eforts could quite possibly be fruitless.

Aziraphale had not interrupted him except for imprescindible doubts. He stood there, taking all the new information in.

Aziraphale was an angel, and as such he had quite an impressive capacity. He was also experience and smart. he was not the best with new discoveries (crowley had given up with him and tecnology long before phone were invented) but he could grasp new concepts quite fine if he set his mind to it. Just as he had learned to dance, and been the first angel to own a computer, he was determined to own a library (or many librarys) on this new practical ways.

Sam was woried when he told him he wanted to buy his own computer. And storage devices. And anything he needed. He would have liked to talk abouth it with Dean, but this angel was not just like Castiel: he wouldn’t wait for them to decide, and help them with whatever they came out with. He had his own plans…and he should better make sure they came out allright.

So, in five minutes or so, Sam found himself outside with the car. (he hoped Dean wouldn’t ask) the angel sat by his side, looking throu the window. Reminding him once more they where only out for this task, and not to call atention.

-that’s becouse you are a hunter, or for how things are lately?- Aziraphale asked.  
-uh… well. Both? We are not just hunters. We are quite…known. And things are…complicated lately.  
-i see.

The rest of the journey was spent in a quite uneasy silence. Aziraphale bought a computer and quite a lot of usb’s, and external discs. All toghether with a nice case big enough and with plenty of pockets to carry it all neatly kept.  
He had to excuse himself when he paid with money from the UK, and then got dollars out of the exact same pocket withouth even looking back.

On theyr way back, the ate. Sam remembered that Cass had a liking by burgers, but barely ever would allow himself to enyoi it. Aziraphale prefered sweets.


	10. Need to talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale finds out a few facts by himself. Crowley won't be able to avoid the questions for much longer...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am soo sorry for taking so long! I had little inspiration, and i concentrated on finishing The Hunt.
> 
> But don't worry! i have a lot of ideas for this one, and i have no intention of leaving it aside.

In the next several hours Aziraphale didn’t bother the other habitants of the bunker.  
He worked nonstop, turning all the books in the library into data and organizing them in usb’s, and disks, including security copies…and some research on the internet.

He didn’t need to eat, so he only stoped to let the poor machine cool down. And while doing so, Sam found him staring blankly at the wall, sitting with a thougfull expression, his feet resting on a chair.

-You’ve been working all day… - There was no answer- …and all night. You don’t sleep either?  
-I don’t need to.  
-what do angels do when they need to rest? You don’t need to eat either and yet… i saw you doing it.

Aziraphale lifted his gaze, Sam waited for him to answer something, and it turned into an akward silence. Finally the angel seemed to realice and spoke in quiet words.

-True. This world has plenty of little pleasures. Staying on it, you end up giving yourself to some of them…

Sam knew he was in an odd mode, and he probably meant something with such words, but he had only got up for a pee and a glass of water. He was not in proper state for psicology.

-Yeah. Well, i do sleep so…right. Good night- and he left for the bathroom.

Aziraphale felt quite old as he took his sweet time to get his plump, eternaly middle aged body up from the chair, and slowly walked up to the kitchen. He slowly, carefully searched for, and made some tea, allowing his mind to stay blank during the chore.   
He then noticed that, the tea itself was one of his favourites. And this kids didn’t look like they would drink so much so… oh. Right. Crowley.

He had been there, and he had made tea for him when he arived. His favourite tea. And there it still was in case he needed some more. How thoughfull.

At least, something (or someone) was still the same. (or was it?)

It was next afternoon when Crowley came back to take a peek at how they where doing.

The winchesters were winchestering (winchester stuff) not to bother them. The canary was nowhere to be found and his angel… where was he?  
Ah…still bushy with the computer. He found him where he had left him, but with a diferent laptop and what seemed like a better organiced sistem. It seemed like he had a small case, in wich he could organice all of the pendrives and discs and carry the machine. He smiled at the though: all of the bookshop and more, kept in one case.

Aziraphale would have to find a new excuse for a human life.

-See you got your own new library?

Dark blue eyes lifted from the screen, into his. They seemed…odly cold.

-you know those things can be adictive, right? Even more than your old books…  
-are you talking of theinternet?

Crowley froze in place. Had he, Aziraphale just mentioned the internet? That could be a new way of anuncing the apocalipse! (again) 

-…you’ve hear of it?  
-i’ve been… experiencing it.

Damn! He had though of the posibility, but thinking he knew the angel he had figured it would take him much, much longer to get any use of it. …this could be risky…

-it can be confusing, overwelming even. Like a room with so many voices speaking at the same time too loud to concentrate on just one… but it is source of…plenty information.

Crowley tried to think carefully of the right way to aproach this situation. He had nothing.

-i sugest… you are very carefull with some pages…and some people on…  
-Is this true?  
-…what?

Aziraphale turned around the laptop. There was a quite recent article abouth a suspicious case, and another one and another one, and another one and a freaking map and gooddamed pictures…

-all of it. 

Crowley didn’t know what to say.

-there are… demons, and other creatures. All around the earth. Angels, dying. It hadn’t happen in like forever and suddenly there’s one here one there and thre other somewhere else…and i mised one frieaking apocalipse Crowley what is this?!  
-It wasn’t the apocalipse. Just like the first time. It didn’t work out.

Aziraphale looked at him. Confused, shocked. Crowley had hoped this conversaton would be easier…and far away in the future. Had he believe he could keep the angel safe in this place for too long? At least a few months? He should have know it wouldn’t be so easy.

-ok. We need to talk.  
-Yeah, i think so.  
-get away from that thing. Lets go down stair…  
-oh yes, just let me save this before i turn it down so it can cool down…  
-…uh?!

He had certainly learned faster than when he took dancing clases.  
Aziraphale followed Crowley down to one of the larger tables, and he looked at it akwardly. Aziraphale didn’t. he sat down in such a natural motion. He then looked at Crowley, and Crowley looked at him.

It had been so long for the demon, since he had done this. He had never though he would do it again… and how he had missed it. And here he was. Siting down with the angel to talk abouth how shitty earth was. Just looking at him it felt odd.

-Everything allright, dear?

Crowley breathed deeply, ever so well hidden and made up an excuse.

-No, i was just thinking what wine would be apropiate for tonight…i had a lot of work lately…

The angel knew him too well to buy it, but he also knew better than to mention it.

-i’d like something not too hard, to start, please. I think i need to stay sober at least for a while.  
-Very well.

Crowley got a bottle of nice, not too expensive wine out of his jacket and served it on two cups that where, suddenly, waiting on the table.

Aziraphale found himself casualy smiling at the sight of the oh so familiar picture, as, somehow, he had missed it.

Crowley took his cup and ofered cheers with a gesture. Aziraphale mirrored him, and took a sip. But then he remembered what they were to discuss about, and his smile banished.

-What happened? When?- he asked looking at his glass.

Crowley drank up to half his part.

-while you where sleping, a little after. It probably was to come long before…  
-how?  
-well, i believe it could be the failed apocalipse. 

Crowley used the wine siping as an excuse to be bague as he explained carefully his theory of how things had consecuently fallen into chaos: After the armagedon that wasn’t, both above and bellow had stood still for a while, as to see what would happen.  
And when nothing happened, they rised so many questions… and got no answers.  
It was then when all got out of hand.

-first some demons tested theyr limits, then, they started lurking into the earth. The other creatures prolifering could be a consecuence, i don’t know. And then, the humans started fighting back. Defending themselves, on theyr own. They learned quiquly.  
-how…impressive?  
-ah! Angels. I thoug at least you would know better than to subestimate them.  
-what about my side?  
-what.  
-Tell me. How did heaven deal with all of this?

Crowley drank one full cup of wine, and refilled it while thinking of a way to answer.

-I didn’t have much contact with above…  
-but you’ve must hear something. rumors, news, any kind of reaction…

Crowley finished and refilled again.

-Nothing- and before Aziraphale could add- And not only me. No one. Nowhere. Nothing from above.

Aziraphale was blank. Crowley hurried his cup up in his hands and he followed the motion, drinking it up. With a gesture from both parts, it was followed by another one.   
What little was left in the bottle, Crowley turned it into nicer, red italian wine. Aziraphale would need it.

The angel screw his eyes and slightly shook his head. 

-What where they thinking!?  
-maybe it was theyr first try at leaving humanity deal with…on theyr own…  
-but that started before. This is diferent. What where they thinking!?

Crowley had another theory for that: that above was maybe ofended, becouse they where just starting to realice that humanity didn’t really need them much, and they hadn’t know what to do with theyr existence… but he did not dare say.

Somewhere in a corner of his head he was noticing that his behaibour…no, his attitude, was…slightly different as of lately…and a little more like back then… he ignored it.

(this is a psycological reaction known as cognitive recoil)

-I don’t know – he decided to say- you know bellow never fully undertood the surface, and much less did heaven.

He was thankfull he didn’t have to talk abouth god being gone right then. And other things…

-Actually, now that hell has had such… contact with earth, they do undestand much better. And heaven is still the same. We have advantage.

He regreted using the word “we”. Luckily, Aziraphale responded to the shock not asking but defending.

-They can not be the same! Look at Castiel: he is here!  
-have you talked to him? He’s been here for years and he still seems…  
-lost…  
-uh?

Crowley didn’t whant to explain Castiel’s stituation right now either… maybe it would have been ven rude. Aziraphale took another cup of wine. After that, the conversation sunk deeper and deeper into the wine. And whenever he asked something Crowley would skillfully avoid the question with more wine.

After some more wine, and burboun, a bit of wisky…and of course, craig, (Crowley enyoied sharing it with Aziraphale) the Winchesters had finally put aside whatever they had been doing and found themselfs looking at a peculiar scene.

-What tha… Dean, do you think they did this…  
-don’t know. Don’t care…Don’t wanna know.


End file.
